“And then today he did something bigger. Everyone became involved, and I convinced myself he had turned Lily into some kind of display.”
“Did Lily feel that way?”
Diane lowered her hands.
“I don’t know. I was too angry to ask.”
She began walking again.
I followed her toward Room 412.
Part Four: Outside Room 412
Before we reached the door, I heard laughter.
Not polite laughter.
Not the weak chuckle Lily sometimes offered when she was trying to reassure everyone.
This was full, breathless, uncontrolled laughter.
It was the sound of a girl forgetting, even if only briefly, that she was in a hospital.
Diane stopped outside the room.
Her hand rested on the door handle.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
“That’s Lily,” I whispered.
Diane nodded.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
“I haven’t heard her laugh like that since before the diagnosis.”
I looked through the narrow window but could not see much beyond several people crowded near the bed.
